Not so good
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: She knew exactly how good in bed Daniel Meade was -which was why she had tried to avoid sleepping with him: she was way less experienced than he was. And besides, she had been told that she wasn't very good at it... Daniel/Betty, post series.


How, how can you resist rewatching the show and wrtie soemthing down when you see pictures of the reunion? I'll tell you: you can't. Hence, this. Post series finale.

* * *

They had been dating for a few months. Which, Daniel admitted, was good- everything with Betty was good. Maybe it was because, for once, he was going out with someone he already knew- a good friend, maybe his best one – or maybe it was because for once he was very, very involved. And committed.

It wasn't like he had believed that, just because they had known each other for years ( _year_ s!) she would have jumped in bed with him after their very first dinner date(ok, well… he wouldn't have minded it, though…): she had known him for years, after all, which meant that she had to see (and understand) that he was a changed man (because of her) and that this time around he meant business. That's why he had decided to behave.

But, he wasn't a saint; of course she was the one he would always be thinking about while getting himself off- only his thoughts were often very, very dirty. Especially after some heavy make-out session (often accompanied by some groping) left him wandering how things could go down in a big, soft bed.

But… he was a man. And the flash was weak. Especially when they had been together for over four months, and his Betty was wearing so little, and so revealing clothes- they were simply black thank top and yoga pants, but they really, really hugged her in all the right places, showed all that fragrant cleavage, and when she sat, the top would lift and, _oh god, the kin of her hip_. Since when was the skin on a hip so sexy and alluring and damn erotic?

It didn't matter if they were on her couch watching TV, and she was so engrossed in the movie (and why was she playing with a lock of hair, anyway? Women should have been forbidden from doing so!) she wasn't even noticing his mood; hell- they weren't even sitting _that close_ , and yet, Daniel finally felt his resolve vanish in thin air.

Still, he knew it wasn't right; Betty had resisted his urges until that very moment, calming him down when he would became a little too "aggressive" and insistent (never verbally, thought; it was his hands. They were a couple of nasty boys that liked to wander where they didn't have to); he had promised himself that he would have never pushed the issue with her- Betty was supposed to take that first step, and initiate anything sexual between them.

Only, she hadn't initiated anything yet, and his manhood was starting to get annoyed- apparently, his own hand wasn't enough any longer, and every time he would get himself off, few minutes later he would be rock hard again…

"Ugh…" he grunted, covering his face with his hands, while Colin Firth was declaring his undying love to a waitress (or something like that; it wasn't like he had followed the movie, his mind was focused on that damn skin of hers and how he could talk her into showing more. A lot more….).

"What?" Betty turned to face him with a quizzical expression on her glasses-free face; her lips were slightly parted, like in a small "o", and Daniel grunted again, because, really, whenever he saw that expression, he couldn't help but think about a lot of indecent things he would like to do with her.

"Nothing." He said, clearing his hoarse voice; he took the pillow from behind his back, and hugged it, pretending that he was rearranging his seated position, when, in truth, he was simply trying to hide his erection.

"That's not nothing, Daniel. You have grunted. _Twice_." She underlined. "And I know you haven't been paying attention to the movie!" She pouted. Like not paying attention to a movie could be the worst possible thing to do. Oh, if she only knew what he had been thinking, what he was _still_ thinking!

"That movie is over ten years old! Besides, I'm a man- we don't pay attention to romantic comedies, we just… pretend to so that you girls could be happy!"

Betty didn't say any more; she simply glared at him in her unique way, which meant she meant business and she knew he was finding excuses (she knew him _that_ well..) and, to underline that she wasn't going to drop the issue, she even stopped the film (either that, or the movie had actually ended; he wasn't sure).

Neither of them were talking; Betty was looking at him like a trained interrogator, awaiting an answer, and Daniel was reflecting on what he could say- he didn't want to seem like a chauvinistic pig, after all; after a while, Betty lifted a now perfect eyebrow, something that, Daniel knew, in Betty language could be translated in, _Hilda and I have been playing this game since before we were teenagers, I can do it all night long- for days, if necessary._

Grunting and annoyed, Daniel threw the pillow on the floor, and he merely indicated his lap with his hands; Betty simply looked at him quizzically. "The pretended sex scenes in Love Actually turn you on?"

If gazes could kill, she would have been dead by now.

He sighed, closing his eyes as to remain calm (because he couldn't believe his girlfriend could be _so_ dense), and then, he underlined very, very well, and very, very slowly his next words. " _You_ turn me on, Betty."

Her answer surprised him: because she actually _laughed_ \- in that very unfeminine, guffaw-ish and loud way he had still come to appreciate, because it was so, so real and just her. When he simply kept looking at her and he didn't add anything else, she stared at her long-time friend turned significant other in surprise. "Oh. You mean it."

This time, it was Daniel's time to look surprised. "Of course I mean it." He looked at her quizzically: why couldn't she believe that she was attractive? Men liked her, lusted after her- inside out. How come she hadn't come to fully believe it yet? Was she really still hung-up on Mode's idea of conventional and stylish beauty? There was much more to a person that bones- he honestly believed that she had learnt it by now. Besides, wasn't Europe famous because they were showing the world that real women had curves, and that the fashion world was supposed to get the hint?

"Honey, your mind attracts me. Your body, as you can see, attracts me. Men in general are attracted by you. Why do you think I try to be as much as I can around you when I know you are around my acquaintances from the fashion industry? They are leeches and I hate the idea of them lusting after you. If I'm around I can at least scare them off."

"You really do that?!" She said at loud, like she was talking to herself; then she turned to face Daniel yet again. "Ok, let's say I'm somehow desirable; why _this_ now?" She desperately tried to avoid looking at his erection, and yet, blushing, her eyes would always fall there; and that grinning bastard knew it! "I mean, I know I'm not crash-hot, but, why now?"

If she wouldn't have been so much in love with him, she would have kicked him from her apartment…

"I don't know; could be that I really would like to finally make love to you, worshipping your whole body while I take my time to ravish each and every inch of your skin…" He said, leaning on her, playing with a dark lock of long hair, his voice low, his breath hot in her neck. "…Or maybe it's just that skin you've been showing all night… there, on your hip. I couldn't take my eyes off of it… and I kept imagined kissing you there, open-mouthed, wet kisses… and then lifting just an inch your top, and move to your navel… I would be very, very careful with it… and then I would slowly move south… I would slowly take your pants off, and I would kiss and bite your legs, from your hips to feet and then back up, and then I would torture… I would move your panties to the side and tease you, without giving you release… I would touch you with my mouth and my tongue and my fingers and I would get you almost there again and again and again, but I would never allow you to come… Because I would want to be in you when it would happen…"

When he finished his speech, he was practically breathing on her mouth, grinning; Betty was flushed, and _hot_ , her pupils dilated, and damn it if his words hadn't worked like a charm on his girlfriend!

"You must be so good at it…." She murmured dreamily, like she was in some kind of trance. She couldn't deny that Daniel had had a huge effect on her- and he had just used words; she couldn't even start to imagine how good he could actually make her feel once his body was going to be concerned.

Daniel chuckled with a devilish grin, shrugging, like to say, _so I'm told and I know it_ ; of course she knew he was very, very good when it came to sex; she hadn't tried it firsthand yet, but she had heard the rumors, listened to the conversations way too many times to not know exactly how good in bed (and everywhere else) Daniel Meade was. Hell- she probably knew more about what he liked to do and how he liked to do it, when sex was concerned, more than he did…

Which was why she had tried to… well, avoid sex with him (there really wasn't a better choice of words for what she had been trying to do), because he was _The_ Daniel Meade; she had been hired because he slept with all of his assistants- because he slept around a lot – and his father hadn't deemed her attractive enough (which wasn't a lie) for him to be attracted to her (the man was probably turning in his grave right now). Of course she had had a few relationships over the years. She didn't completely lack the experience- she was just way less experienced than Daniel did and had been told that she wasn't very good when it came to sex.

It hadn't really been her lovers' fault, of course. The blame, Betty thought, lay entirely with her. Once naked, she had always worried too much about how she looked like, and taking negative thoughts about herself was obviously a killer when it came to having an orgasm. She had had a few of them over the years, of course she did, but she could have counted them on one hand (for real), that was why she had often, well, _faked_ them. Because all the guys got worried after a while, and, really, it was the only sensible thing to do for a young woman in love.

She guessed she could have very well done the same thing with Daniel; but, with Daniel being Daniel, she imagined that he would have gotten it right away; he would have read too much into it, would have been disappointed and worried, hence kissing bye-bye to her (well, their) fairy-tale romance.

"Betty? You still here? Do I have to give you mouth-to-mouth?" He joked, caressing her dark hair and ruffling it like she was a child, his smile bright and infectious.

 _Yes, I'd really like that,_ she thought a bit malicious, biting her lips, her eyes going from his mouth to his erection and vice versa.

"Oh, well, if that's what you want, who am I to deny you your hearth's desire?" He grinned, chuckling, his eyes filled with a malicious light as she saw Daniel leaning over her, closer and closer; as soon as she realized that she had been talking out loud, she gulped down a mouthful of saliva- not because he was going to kiss her, because, hello? They've been kissing _a lot,_ but because his predator expression; Daniel Meade was a man on a mission- a mission called _seduction._

But… did she want him to?

Daniel was finally looming over her in the way she had too often- and for too long, far longer than she cared to admit- imagined; the thought of his mouth on hers- of his hands on her body- banished what little was left of her fears: if only his gaze and his words could turn her on in such a way, then, then the real deal… then becoming one with him… she took a big breath, blushing as she imagined how just amazing and heart-shattering making love to him had to be.

She looked deep into Daniel's eyes, unable to hide her desires any longer, not wanting to; Daniel was taken aback, but only for a second or two, then his eyes darkened with desire; he didn't say a word, and Betty was somehow glad, for she feared that words would have ruined the moment, gave her time to think this through.

Daniel's lips descended upon hers, possessive, hungry, and he pushed her down on the couch; she kissed him back, meeting his passion, melting at the touch of his delicate finger skimming over burning skin. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, while she couldn't stop running her hands through his short hair. Daniel groaned in appreciation, and yet he didn't stop kissing her- she honestly thought she would have passed out for lack of air, but she guessed she was a good was as any to die _. If not better_ …

He finally stopped, his breathing ragged; he sat up, never breaking eye-contact with the woman he now knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with; he teased the skin of her abdomen, played with the fabric of her top, and grinning slyly, he asked he stated that it was time to take it off.

And, oh boy, take it off he did. Effortlessly, barely moving his hands at all. And then he carelessly tossed the piece of fabric aside, and Betty saw it land on her big, black stereo; when he spoke next, whispering her name like a prayer to a goddess, she came back to reality, and Betty realized that, while she had been concentrating on her inner thoughts, Daniel had taken care of all of her clothes.

She was stark naked in front of him, in the bright light of her living room, and, oddly, she wasn't besieged by concerns over her body as she was when she had slept with all her exes; it didn't matter that she had no make-up on, or that she had (bad) bed hair: if the look in Daniel's eyes was any indication, he still liked what he was seeing. Even if he had been with super-models. Even if he had known her when she was way less than perfect.

"Now, isn't this better?" he asked, and in his eyes she could see that Daniel was happy. Complete. For maybe the first time in a long time. She could only nod, her eyes glassy with unshed tears- of happiness.

His head descended again and he kissed her for real, deep, drugging kisses which had the blood pounding in her temples and her body racing like a Formula One Ferrari on the starting blocks; Betty moaned when his mouth abandoned her, then moaned again when he rubbed his slightly stubbly chin over her breasts. Her rock-hard nipples felt like they were on fire; he licked one, then sucked on it, and an electric charge zigzagged down through her stomach, centering between her thighs. She cried out and her back arched away from the couch, her hands somehow finding his hair yet again.

He stopped momentarily to lift her hands up above her head, out of the way, and they flopped back over the wide leather arm of the couch. His lips returned to take possession of her other breast, his right hand squeezing it at the same time, pushing the whole areola and nipple deeper into his mouth. When Betty's back went to arch again, Daniel's other hand splayed across her stomach, his large palm pressing her back down against the leather, keeping her still while he continued his erotic feasting on her breasts. The effect was incredible, her mind as turned on as her body. She writhed against his hands, crying out with a heady mixture of pleasure and pain, for every now and then he would nip at a nipple with his teeth, hen tug on it.

Too soon Daniel, thought, stopped, and the hand on her belly moved down into her damp curls ; his mouth followed, licking at her navel – just like he had promised her earlier -while those knowing fingers parted, probed and penetrated, knowing exactly where and how to give her the most exquisite yet almost mind-bending pleasure. She couldn't think. She could only feel, and crave more.

"Please," she begged, her head thrashing from side to side. "Oh, please…" Why, oh, why hadn't she allowed Daniel to touch her like that before? On second thoughts, maybe it was for the best that she hadn't: she would have been addicted to him- she would have jumped him anywhere had they been lovers before.

Daniel flipped her right leg over his shoulder and put his mouth where his hand had been; when she jackknifed, he gripped her bottom, lifting it, and her hips, away from the leather, giving him better access and stopping any further movement from her.

No one had never done this to her. Never. She hadn't wanted any of them to. The thought had either or repulsed or scared her, yet now with Daniel there was no embarrassment, only the most intense pleasure, and the most urgent need.

"Yes, yes…" she craved. "There! There!"

"I've always liked a vocal woman…" Daniel muttered from between her legs.

His tongue flicked over her swollen clitoris and she almost screamed; another flick, then another; she clenched her teeth, feeling that she was going to come. She was sure of it. He only had to touch it with his tongue again. But Daniel didn't touch it with his tongue again. Instead, his lips closed over the burning nub and he sucked on it, hard.

She screamed, then splintered apart, coming as she had never come before. Her back arched. Her mouth gaped wide. Her head exploded with a thousand stars. Brilliant and blinding. The spasms went on and on and on, wave after wave until it was over.

Daniel lifted his head, his expression both smug and slightly sheepish.

Betty laughed, reading his thoughts as Daniel laid down at her side on the roomy couch. "C'mon, I know what you want to ask me…" She teased him, her fingers playing with his nipples through the fabric of his grey t-shirt.

Daniel joined in the laughed, and kissed the tender and fragrant skin of her shoulder, then, shaking his head, happy and carefree, he met her eyes and asked what was on his mind- and yet, he wasn't being too serious or arrogant. Daniel was being… funny, carefree. At easy.

"So, tell me, miss Suarez: am I as good as they say?"

"Definitely." She answered ruffling his hair; then, she went in for the killing, and kissed him. Kissed the first man who had just gone down on her- the man who had just slurped her as she was coming down from a killer orgasm.

She tasted herself on his mouth, as their tongues battle for dominance, and the sensation was so heady she felt close to fall into a million of tiny little pieces, shatter in his hands, she couldn't believe that she had always assumed that sex could be not good, or that she wasn't good at it- with blinding clarity, Betty finally realized that she had never been the problem, and that all of her previous boyfriends- Walter, Harry, Matt, Gio and all the others- had been wrong. It wasn't like she wasn't good at sex: she just wasn't good at sex _with them_.

Betty parted from Daniel, and then, with a devil-may-care attitude, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and took it off, in the same way he had undressed her before. "Now, isn't this better?" She asked, quoting him.

"Whatever you want, baby!" He practically jumped on top of her as he started to fumbler with his seats and boxers, and started to devour her lips yet again, but Betty couldn't stop laughing after the use of her brand new (and she hoped never to be heard again) pet-name. "What? C'mon, cut me some slack. I'm experimenting here!"

Shaking his head, Daniel left the couch, and bent to scoop her up into his arms; he carried her over to her bedroom door, holding Betty easily with one arm whilst he opened it and turned on the light, and proceeded to lower her into the middle of the mattress of her huge bed. He climbed in bed and drew her into his arms, and was going for the killing with one of those earth-shattering kisses of his when he stopped, mere inches from her mouth, Betty looking at him quizzically.

"What?" She asked. She seriously hoped he hadn't changed his mind. He couldn't have changed his mind- not now that she had discovered that she really, really liked getting dirty with him. Daniel cleared his throat, blushing.

"I…" He lowered his voice, almost like someone could be listening to him. Which was stupid- because they were the only ones in her apartment, which he knew very well, but apparently, Daniel Meade didn't connect all too well when under the effects of lust and sexual frustration and abstinence. "I wasn't exactly planning on seducing you, so… I don't have any, you know…" He paused, his voice lower and lower. "And I guess you don't have them either, so maybe we could just, you know."

Betty looked at him quizzically, then she had a sort of epiphany of her own, and shook her head, smiling mischievously, like she was a born seductress, a real vixen. "Do you happen to be talking about condoms, Daniel?" She asked him, scratching lightly his nipples with her black-polished nails. Daniel grunted something out- maybe words, but she wasn't sure. She just knew that her hands moving south were doing something very nice- and powerful- to her boyfriend.

Like on autopilot, she moved her lips, and started kissing her way to his lobe, nibbling at the skin of his neck, sucking it with force, enjoying his salty taste, she bite, quite hard, on his lobe, before whispering the words that undid him in his ear. "I'm on the pill… no need to resist temptation…"

Suddenly, her hands were everywhere, stroking, exploring, exciting his already over-heated body; Daniel attempted to slow her down, but she kissed him, his shoulder first then his collarbone, then his ribs, and her path had his mind rioting with ideas. "Betty…" He gasped. "You don't have to…"

"It's my time to make you feel good..."

He grabbed her for the shoulders, and put her back she belonged- at his side, face to face with him, she didn't have to make him feel good- he had felt good enough while pleasuring her- and this was supposed to be about her. Her pleasure and her (silly and unjustified) insecurities _. Of course_ he wouldn't have minded a blowjob – under any other circumstance he would have absolutely loved it – but not now. Not when it was all about her.

He felt himself close to the edge- giving her pleasure had almost did him – and he didn't want to come in her mouth, not on their first time together. He wanted to be i _n_ her, when it happened.

On top of Daniel now, Betty abruptly forced herself down in one hard, fast movement, taking him deep inside her, enclosing him in her wet heat, her nails bit into his chest, her muscles grasped him tight as she yelled his name.

(He was right- she was a vocal woman)

He felt immediately her contractions begin, thanks probably to their intense foreplay, at the same time, his back arched, his body pulsed, and pleasure overrode any sensation or reason; his body went into spasms of intense sensation, explosive release, then numbness: it was by far the most pleasure he'd ever had, and yet, it hadn't lasted at all.

He sank into the bed, Betty draped over him, her soft mouth touching his throat as she gulped for air; her limbs were still shaking, her heartbeat still thumping in counter time to his. Long minutes passed while he refused to think. And then he heard her whisper, her voice shaky.

"Wow. You were tight- you are good." She lifted her eyes, surprised. " The sex was good. Wasn't it?" She asked.

Daniel turned to look at her, and saw that she was serious. And worried. "Of course I liked it!" Seriously, what was not to like? He didn't get it.

"It's just that… you didn't exactly… last. And besides…." She cleared her throat, a bit ashamed of having to admit those words out loud. "I haven't exactly had stellar reviews in the past."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't last! Do you have any idea how long I've been hard for you? Besides, who the hell is the idiot who told you that you were not good at it?" Daniel asked in disbelief, dead serious.

Betty shrugged, looking at the ceiling, still unable to believe how he had rocked her whole word. "They weren't exactly wrong. It's just that…I've never experienced anything like that with them. And I'm not talking about the feeling good orgasmic part. Also if that's pretty new, too."

Daniel turned on his side, facing Betty, his big hand palming her hip- he loved how real she was, her curves in all the right places – and she scouted over. "It's… being love. Being truly in love… and knowing that it's right and real… it just makes it so much more… powerful."

Betty chuckled, her hands under her chin. "Arrogant much, Daniel?" She joked.

But when he shook his head, she saw in the deep of his azure eyes no trace of mockery, no arrogance or anything else. He looked at her with an intensity that no one had directed at her before, the words almost dying in his throat as he cupped her cheek. "I was talking about me." He paused, and kissed her once on the lips, a peck, and yet still hard, full of desperation and remorse. "I love you… and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it… to admit it."

"I know." Betty gently put her hands on his shoulders, her fingertips massaging the point where they joined with the neck. "It's the same with me. I mean, even your mother saw that we were in love before us, but I didn't want to listen to her…"

Daniel looked at her quizzically, and yet in disbelief. "She told you? When?"

"When I was leaving. Why?"

"Because that's when she told me, too." Daniel sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Do you know what it mean, Betty'"

"What?" She asked, curious. And worried. Sometimes, you could never say what was on Daniel's head, and what troubles he would have caused…

"If we'll ever have a girl, we'll have to name her after my mother!" He said, dramatically, like he was the worse Shakespearian actor ever existed on the whole planet.

They both laughed. And kissed. And collapsed between tangled sheets. Not that they really minded, though. Who would, when the sex was that good?


End file.
